


Speaking Voice

by ghostyjpg



Series: Greasy Bassist Keith AU [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bands, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Aromantic Asexual Pidge | Katie Holt, Bassist Keith (Voltron), Coffee Shops, Eventual Keith/Lance (Voltron), F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Keytar Player Pidge (Voltron), M/M, Minor Allura/Shiro (Voltron), Model Lance (Voltron), Multi, Non-binary Pidge (Voltron), Trans Keith (Voltron), everyone is like 19-21 or so, except Pidge they're like 16 or 17, except for raiden, s/o to raiden ily no homo, the greasy bassist keith and model lance AU that nobody asked for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-28 15:16:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8451412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostyjpg/pseuds/ghostyjpg
Summary: When Keith Kogane left band practice from his best friend Pidge's older brother's place, he didn't expect to get coffee dumped on him.He also didn't expect to get the number of an apparent model. (Titled after the song "Speaking Voice" by COIN)





	1. Sleep Until it Hurts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Verse 1]  
> Stumble on my words / A feeling I'd forgotten  
> Sleep until it hurts / And tell me if you're honest

      It was already decently late into the night, and the nearly-famous bassist Keith Kogane had finally began his way back to his apartment. It was a lot later than he normally would leave after band practice with his best friend Pidge. They had convinced him to stay longer by showing him how they had began to learn “Na Na Na” on their keytar, and in result forcing him to play along on his bass, which thus turned into a full-on MCR jam session. Keith silently cursed his emo tendencies as he left the Holt household around 11 o’clock at night.

      He tugged his sweater in closer to his chest so that the zipper almost touched the other side, his other hand too full to zip it up. He adjusted his messenger bag to hold it in place and help shield him from the cold autumn night air, almost dropping his bass onto the sidewalk awaiting below it in the process. Keith remembered that he still had homework to do for his college classes due the next day waiting for him, so he decided to make a pit stop at a local café for something- anything- caffeinated to help him survive the rest of the night. He hoped that his creative writing teacher would be understanding enough to let him off easy if he handed in another assignment late.

      Keith dug his “ancient” phone (as stated about his iPhone 4 by self-proclaimed tech expert and robot lover Pidge Gunderson Holt) out of his bag, plugging his earbuds into it, and opening his music app. Sifting through his music library as he continued his walk down the street past darkened shop windows, he had finally decided on a song. Before he could move his hand to select play, he was rudely interrupted by a tall man around his age bumping into him- and quite rudely spilling his boiling hot cup of coffee all over his crimson sweater as well as causing Keith to drop his phone onto the sidewalk. The 6 year old phone made a worrying noise against the hard ground.

      Keith looked from his phone to his sweater in a state of shock. “What the _fuck_?” Keith exclaimed, gingerly picking up his now shattered phone from the ground. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He spoke under his breath in an annoyed tone. He winced when he turned it over in his hand, he didn’t think he could even pay Pidge to try and fix it. He’d have to get an entirely new phone.

      Still slightly shocked, but more annoyed at this point, he grumbled while shoving his phone into his pocket. Keith began to put down his bag and instrument, and stripped himself of his now soiled hoodie. He held it out in front of himself, letting the milky orange liquid drip onto the cement, onto the man’s plastic cup and shards of glass.

      The taller boy, now stopped about a foot in front of him, said something quickly into his phone before pulling it away from his face and turning to look at Keith. His deep blue eyes widened in shock. “Oh- oh my _God_ ,” he began, voice full of shame. “I didn’t see you there man, I’m so sorry. I totally thought I just ran into a pole.”

      He scoffed while ringing out his hoodie. “Oh yeah, _sure_ , a pole that’s only 5 feet and 6 inches tall,” he spoke sarcastically. “And well, sorry doesn’t exactly fix my coffee stained sweater or cracked phone now, does it?” Keith practically snarled the words at the stranger standing in front of him.

      Wincing in response, the stranger fished a napkin out of his pocket. Keith reached to grab it to mop up his dripping sweater, but the stranger stepped away, bringing the napkin out of his reach. He placed his expensive-looking phone between his shoulder and ear, and used his free hand to retrieve the pen from the contrasting coloured pocket of his shirt. He jotted down what appeared to be a phone number and some words and handed it to Keith.

      “Here,” he said, showing his perfect teeth in an absolutely charming smile. “I have to go, or else my roommate will have my head for being home late again. But at least let me make it up to you some time when I’m not on my way home from a shoot. I’ll see you later.” He winked, and strutted away from Keith, leaving him with a soaked sweater, a damaged phone, and an empty coffee cup on the ground.

      Grumbling as the model-esque man walked away, Keith picked up the reusable coffee cup and shook it of any typically white girl drink remains before placing it in his bag along with his damp and now pumpkin spice latte-scented sweater. He looked up and watched as the good-looking guy walked away. “I don’t even have a working phone to text you from!” He called after him, making a megaphone with his hands.  

      “Call me!” He replied, turning around to face Keith, continuing to walk backwards and almost running into a street lamp. He quickly turned around again after the almost-mishap, and continued on his way.

      Keith sighed as he gathered his things, deciding that his teacher could wait a day or so for that assignment, and that he didn't want to be around coffee after the recent incident with the tan stranger. He reached to get his phone to tell Pidge about what had just happened and to complain on Twitter, ( _completely_ forgetting about its current state) but when he pulled it out, he was met with a black and heavily fractured screen. Letting out a loud groan of annoyance, he continued on his cold route home.

 

* * *

 

      Keith unlocked the door to his apartment, closing the door behind him and turning on the lights. He kicked off his docs and pushed them to the side with one foot. Placing his bass down next to his couch, he slumped into the beaten old khaki couch and stripped himself of his chest binder with great experience, taking in a deep breath.  
  
      His bag on the seat next to him, he opened it up and viewed its contents; he pulled out the stained and still damp sweater- promptly throwing it into a random corner to be dealt with later, a napkin marked with a blue pen, and a reusable coffee cup. Keith turned the coffee cup over in his hands. It looked like it had come from an expensive store, but on the bottom it had been written on with a sharpie. “Lance McClain” it read. The name was familiar. His friend Shiro followed him on instagram he thought. He was a decently famous model, doing shoots for commercials and magazines and sponsors online. He gave his attention to the napkin next. What he assumed was Lance’s phone number had been scrawled down on it messily in ink, along with an apology.

      Keith hummed, placing the cup and napkin on his coffee table, and giving it a good long stare. He furrowed his dark brows together and frowned.

      He didn’t have a landline to call Lance with.

 

   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you think!! I have yet to get a beta reader (since this was finished at 3:30 am) so please tell me about any mistakes! my contact info is in the story notes, so shoot me a message if you want to chat!


	2. I'd Share my Coat if You're Freezing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Hook]  
> I know you don't have a reason to/ Speak up and that's alright  
> I'd share my coat if you're freezing / But if not, at least I tried

      “So you’re telling me, this guy broke your phone, and proceeded to give you his number?” Pidge questioned their friend through bites of grilled cheese. “That was kinda stupid of him.”

      Keith sighed into his mug and placed it down on coaster on the coffee table in front of them. “Yeah, not exactly the smartest move if you ask me,” he stated, rolling his eyes. “But can you fix it?”

      His slightly younger friend squinted at the cracked phone sitting on the coffee table before placing their sandwich down on the crumb-coated plate. Pidge wiped their hands on their denim shorts before picking up Keith’s broken phone from the table. They gave it a quick once-over before adjusting their glasses and looking over at Keith. “I can replace the screen pretty easy,” they began, placing the phone back onto the table. “But it might take me a while since I still have exams to study for, and since it’s old I might do some hardware adjustments while I’m at it.”

      Keith frowned. He had forgotten that Pidge was still in high school. Even though Pidge was at the top of most of their classes, the fact that their classes were almost entirely AP made things more difficult, since it meant more exams. “So how long is “a while” then? A week? Two weeks?”

      A snort was heard in response from Keith’s companion. “Sure, with 3 AP exams to study for, I _definitely_ have _lots_ of free time to fix your ancient phone you could _easily_ get replaced for something better.” Pidge replied, their voice dripping with sarcasm. They sighed. “Look. If you’re really that impatient, just sell this thing for parts, and use a replacement until you get enough cash for a better one.”

      Pidge was looking at him with a devilish smirk. A smirk that only happens when they’re thinking of something completely and utterly _evil._ He knew what they were thinking, and his eyebrows furrowed in response. “No, first of all I can wait.” Keith began, his voice stern. Pidge sniggered at the thought of Keith being patient. “Second of all, you are not giving me your brother’s old Nokia.”

      The small brunette’s smirk grew into a wide grin and their eyes lit up. “Well, that wasn’t my original plan, but I mean if you really _want_ to use Matt’s Nokia, I’m sure he wouldn’t have any problems with it.” Pidge then raced off into their brother’s room, leaving Keith in a state of shock and horror on the Holt’s old worn couch.

 

* * *

 

      Keith held the clunky phone in one hand, stomping down the concrete steps that led up to Pidge’s house. He looked at it and scoffed. He didn’t mind using an old phone, hell, he was surprised his phone had held up as long as it did, but this was ridiculous. He was glad Pidge was able to transfer his current number to the “new” phone for the time being, but he hoped he could get something better ASAP.

      As soon as he stepped off the steps, he whipped the brick of a phone into the parking bumper. The collision made a loud cracking sound, and as Keith reached to pick up the phone, he noticed that there was now a crack in the bright yellow curb that was not there before. His eyes widened at the unscathed archaic device he held in his callused hands. What. The. Hell.

      Keith made his way to the phone company downtown. The 10 minute bus ride was hell, the sardine packed bus not leaving much room to be comfortable, but he figured it would be well worth it if he could get something that could at least send a text.

      He approached the crisp white counter inside the shop. “Hi there, I’d like to trade in this phone for something that’s able to send text messages if that’s possible.” Keith awkwardly placed the phone on the counter, the steel grey body stuck out like a sore thumb against the smooth surface.

      “Of course, we can get started as soon as we-” the employee began as she typed away at her computer, before turning her attention to the phone that was to be replaced. She immediately burst into a fit of laughter. “HAHAHAHAH- Rolo!! You gotta- heh- come get a look at this guy’s phone!”

      Keith stood annoyed at the counter as the two employees heckled him and made fun of his phone. He grabbed the phone off the counter and left the store swiftly before the pair of employees could laugh at him any more. “Have a good day _GRANDPA!_ ” One of them called after him as he exited through the transparent glass door.

 _Bastards._ Keith thought to himself as he put the phone in his bag and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He thought maybe today was the day to get that drink from

 

* * *

 

      Keith absently sipped on his creamy drink in his corner of the coffee shop (even though he was lactose intolerant and knew he would regret his drink of choice later) and stared intently at the napkin he had been given the other day. Sighing, he folded it into fours and shoved it into his pocket. He felt guilty about not trying to call using Pidge’s phone or another one of his friend’s phones, but he had always been bad with phone calls, so he decided against it almost immediately.

      Without his phone, Keith was forced to listen to the Top 40 music that the café played, the sounds of people chattering away, and the ringing of bells every time someone would enter the shop. Places such as the café seemed to help Keith come up with ideas for songs, but after about 20 minutes of getting distracted every time someone would open the door, and obnoxious teen music playing on the radio, he gave up on trying to write music, and pulled out the phone that was oh-so-graciously lent to him.

      After about 5 minutes of playing snake on the 16 year old phone had passed, Keith’s attention was drawn away by a familiar sounding voice. The owner of the voice ordered an almost appallingly pretentious-sounding drink off the menu, and proceeded to ask for his drink with a side of “your number, sweetheart.” which resulted in a scoff from the barista, before telling him to have a seat and to wait for his drink. Keith silently gave his attention back to the game on his phone, cursing when he realized he had lost.

      “Mind if I have a seat?”

      “Huh?” Keith looked up and was meet with blue eyes and freckles that he remembered right away. “Uh, yeah sure.” He sipped on his now cold beverage and looked out the window, hoping that he wouldn’t be recognized.

      “Hey! You’re that guy I spilled my drink all over the other day, right?” He questioned Keith.

      “Um. Yeah, it’s Keith. Sorry I didn’t text you or anything, I kinda, uh…” Keith held up his phone to show it to Lance. “Yeah. This thing isn’t exactly the greatest replacement to do things with.”

      Lance laughed, and the sound of it could make flowers bloom. “Hey, don’t worry about it, Keith! You have a computer, right? Add me on Facebook! We can chat more there.” And with that, he winked. There was no way he was flirting with Keith, right?

      Keith blinked at him. “Sure, I guess so.” Keith really didn’t want to talk to Lance more than he had to, he felt incredibly awkward. He began packing up his things into his canvas messenger bag. “I have to go, it’s getting kinda late and I have things to do still.” It wasn’t a _complete_ lie, it was around 6 o’clock, so Keith figured he could stop at the store on his way home or something.

      “Alright no big deal,” Lance replied, his smile never once wavering from his face. “Hey, how about I walk you home? I was about to head out after I got my coffee anyways, I did get it to go after all!”

      He wanted so badly to say no so badly, but for some reason, “okay.” Keith blurted out before he could deny the taller man’s offer.

      The two left the establishment, and Keith’s ears were instantly filled with how Lance’s day was going. How work was so hard, and it was hard being a model and having everyone expect you to behave a certain way, look a certain way, et cetera. The only thing that would keep Lance from talking was his near-ten dollar drink. Keith retained the urge to roll his eyes. He let out a sigh, his breath forming smoky clouds in the air. His apartment seemed a lot further when Lance was blabbing his ear off. He shivered, regretting seeing the forecast this morning and refusing to put on a sweater.

      “...Keith?” Lance looked over at Keith, whose hands were now gripping his goosebump covered arms tightly.

      Keith shook his head of any thoughts. “Sorry, spaced out for a second. What did you-” His shoulders were swiftly covered with a green fleece-lined jacket. Keith frowned. “You didn’t have to do that, I’m fine without it,” he said, putting his arms into the sleeves.

      Lance simply shrugged. “You looked cold, and I’m wearing a long sleeve shirt anyways. I mean, I’d share my coat if you’re freezing, but if not, at least I tried, right?” He paused for a moment before his mouth turned up into a smirk. “Plus it’ll give you an excuse to see me again.” Keith thought about protesting and giving it back, but the slightly oversized jacket had already started to warm him up.

      The rest of the walk to Keith’s place was practically silent. It was a comfortable silence, which Keith very much enjoyed. Lance asked the occasional polite question to him, which Keith usually responded to in one or two worded answers.

      “So what do you do?” Lance asked. “It definitely isn’t hair styling, what with a mullet like that.”

      “Shut up,” Keith replied in a joking tone, rolling his eyes. “But no, I’m a bassist. I have a band.” He paused for a moment. “Well, if you count me on bass and my friend on Keytar as a band.”

      Lance smiled, happy he was slowly getting Keith to warm up to him. “Cool! I’ll have to see you play some time. By the way, how far away is your house? It feels like we’ve been walking for _ages!_ ”

      Bringing his wrist up and pushing back the baggy jacket, Keith looked at his watch. “Thirty minutes,” he replied. “We’re almost there though.”

      Lance groaned. “If I knew you lived so far I don’t think I would have offered,” Lance jokingly said. “I guess it’s too late for that though.”

      After what seemed like far too long, they finally arrived at the apartment complex. Lance cringed at the old looking building.

      “Thanks,” Keith was the first to speak, starting to peel the jacket from his body. “You can have your jacket back now.”

      “Nope, no no no,” he refused Keith, wagging his finger at him. “If you give it back, how can I be so sure I’ll see you again?”

      Keith furrowed his eyebrows, and drew his mouth into a line. “You said to add you on facebook so….?”

      Lance’s ocean blue eyes lit up like lightbulbs. “Right!” He snapped his fingers and pointed at Keith. “Alright I gotta go.” Lance fidgeted for a moment before backing up a step, and promptly almost tumbling down the stairs. “Hasta la later, Keith!” Lance called out loud. He quickly turned around and walked in the same direction they had just came from.

      “I don’t think that’s how the saying goes!” He yelled after him. Keith lingered in the doorway for a moment, watching Lance’s tall figure gradually grow smaller as he speed walked away. He tossed his empty coffee cup into the trash and made his way to his apartment.

 

**Keith Kogane: (6) notifications**

**(1) Friend Request from: Lance McClain**

**(5) Messages from: Pidge K. Holt**

 

**> View message(s)**

**(17:27) did u see ur mothman in shining armour today?**

**(17:30)** **( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)**

**(17:31) i spent too long looking for that face for u ok i hope u actually appreciate my memes this time kogane >:V**

**(17:32) anyways, still fixing ur phone. should be done sooner than expected tho. can’t keep whatshisface waiting, can we?**

**(17:40) i just remembered u don’t have a phone to reply to me with. wtf the fuck. text me when u get home ok**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hooo boy. this chapter is a bit longer, as i'm leaving for fan expo on wednesday and i won't have internet until i get back home on the monday, so i won't be able to write unfortunately!! once again, please let me know if i made any mistakes as i tend to get kind of rambly at times. contact info is in the notes below!


	3. But If Not, at Least I Tried

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Hook]  
> I know you don't have a reason to/ Speak up and that's alright  
> I'd share my coat if you're freezing / But if not, at least I tried

      “Keith, you need to clean up more often, I swear this place is like a pigsty.” Keith’s friend Shiro spoke from where he was standing perched on a chair, Febreze bottle in hand. “The only time you clean cannot be whenever I come over.”

      “It’s not.” Keith replied over the running water and clattering dishes in the sink, attempting to disguise the tone of annoyance in his voice. “I’m just busy sometimes so I don’t have time to do it.”

      Shiro raised his prosthetic arm to the ceiling fan, pointing the air freshener bottle at it. “This is going to be so effective,” he mumbled under his breath before spraying the scented aerosol into the rapidly spinning fan. It proceeded to spray the scent back into his face, causing the older man have a coughing fit.

      “I thought you were the dad friend,” Keith joked. “You should know that spraying a can of air freshener into a high-speed fan isn’t gonna end well.”

      Shiro laughed between coughs, stepping down from the chair. “I guess so. But on another note, I’m glad you finally agreed to meet my fiancée, I think she’ll be bringing two of her friends from the modeling agency for dinner too, so be nice.”

      “I’m nice!” Keith piqued up as he dried his hands. “But I swear Shiro if-”

      “Yeah, yeah, I know Keith,” he replied, hands raised in defense. “I’ve met Allura’s friends, and they’re all nice so there’s no need to worry. One of them is pretty loud, but I’m sure you’ll get along fine.”

      Keith slumped down onto the couch and kicked his feet up on the old coffee table. “Alright,” he replied with a sigh. “You owe me for letting you have this thing at my place while they’re doing construction at your place, by the way.”

      Shiro chuckled, walking over and ruffling Keith’s hair from behind the couch. “No breaks yet Keith, they’ll be here soon so you have to get ready. Paint splattered jeans aren’t exactly going to make a good impression on people.” Shiro hadn’t cleaned up too much, he sported a nice grey button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up that his muscles seemed close to exploding out of. Keith looked down at his own worn high school sweatshirt and ripped jeans.

      “Even Pidge is wearing something decent, and we both know how much convincing it took to get them to last time we all had to get dressed up.” He continued.

      Keith rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he grumbled, stalking away to his room to get changed. “You’re opening the door if anyone comes, I don’t want to participate in any more social interaction than needed.” Noticing the time, Keith realized he had only about 15 minutes to find something that was clean, unwrinkled, still fit him, and would be fit to wear in front of people who were apparently models. He groaned inwardly.

 

* * *

 

      “So we finally get to meet this mystery man of your’s?” Lance teased Allura from the passenger’s seat of the car while wiggling his eyebrows. “It’s about time, we still haven’t approved of the guy yet!”

      “Yeah Allura,” Hunk added, leaning in from the back to join the conversation. “For all we know this guy could be like, a serial killer or something.”

      Allura rolled her eyes. “Oh hush, you two. You’ve seen my posts on social media about Shiro, he’s a very kind soul.”

      “Well from how highly you talk of him he _better_ be, or else he’ll get some of this!” Lance flexed his arm, and patted it confidently. “Eh?”

      The car lurched to a halt, sending Lance flying into the car’s dashboard. “We’re here!” Allura sing-songed, putting the car into park.

      The trio stepped out of the heated car and out into the chilly air that nipped at Lance’s bare arms. Lance looked up at the ivy covered brick building in front of him. It seemed incredibly familiar to him- it was almost eerie to him. The steps were covered in frost despite it not technically being winter yet. Shivering, Lance allowed himself to be ushered inside by Allura and Hunk, following Allura as she walked several steps to one of the doors near the entrance.

      Allura knocked on the oak door, and a muffled high pitched “Coming!” was heard from the other side. The door swung open in front of the three, and a tall buff looking man opened it, who was obviously not the owner of the voice.

      “I’ve got it, Pidge!” He called over his shoulder to a much shorter brunette- Lance guessed this was who first replied to the knocking- before giving his attention back to them. “Hey!” The man’s face seemed to glow, he looked like an excited puppy dog and his smile lit up. He engulfed Allura into a tight hug.

      “Thank you for having us, Shiro!” Allura gleamed as she pulled away from her fiancé’s hug. She walked into the apartment, and Lance and Hunk quickly followed, the four of them crowding in the kitchen. Allura gestured to the two young men standing beside her, introducing them to her love.

      “Lance, huh? I believe I’ve heard about you from more than just what Allura has said.” Shiro quirked an eyebrow after being introduced to them, before relaxing it once more. “Sitting at the table over there is Pidge. They’re a bit preoccupied at the moment, though.” Sure enough, Pidge was tinkering away with what appeared to be a smartphone. They turned around for a brief moment, giving a small “Hey”, before returning to their work.

      The olive skinned boy’s eyebrows furrowed at Shiro’s preceding comment. Lance opened his mouth, but before he could speak, he was interrupted by another voice.

      “Guys does this look okay? I know your girlfriend is like, a super famous model or whatever, Shiro.” Keith questioned out loud while walking out of his room, blissfully unaware that guests had already arrived. “I haven’t even sh-” Keith quickly shut himself up after noticing 3 more people than expected standing in his kitchen.

 

* * *

 

      A million thoughts ran through Keith’s mind at the exact moment that he saw Lance McClain standing in his kitchen, such as; _“Shit”, “Fuck”, “No”, “What the fuck”,_ and _“Why is he here?”_

      “Keith, you’re just in time,” Shiro smiled as Keith walked closer. “This is my fiancée Allura, as well as her friends Hunk and Lance.”

      Keith awkwardly extended his hand, politely shaking both Allura’s and Hunk’s before turning to Lance and raising his eyebrows. “Why are you in my house?” He blurted out after a second. _Damnit, that came out wrong._ Keith cringed at his own words, internally facepalming.

      “I knew this place seemed familiar!” Lance near shouted in response. Hunk and Allura exchanged glances, while Shiro looked to Pidge who was still seated at the nearby table who gave him a look that simply said _“I told you so.”_

      After a few moments of Keith grilling Lance for how and why he was here, the rest of the evening went off without a hitch. Celebratory drinks in honour of Shiro and Allura were had by those who could drink, (“ _Alcohol’s gross anyways,_ ” Pidge had insisted. “ _Sparkling apple cider is where the real party’s at.”)_ and Allura had shown off the shining ring that Shiro had picked out with the help of Pidge’s older brother and Shiro’s friend Matt. Shiro and Allura were sickeningly cute together, earning a face of disgust from Pidge every time they would do something stereotypically couple-y, which in turn got a chuckle out of Keith, which sent of a chain reaction to Lance, who then set off his best friend Hunk, which ultimately led to everyone having a fit of laughter.

      “Hey, by the way Keith, why didn’t you ever text me? Or message me on Facebook?” Lance interrogated out of seemingly nowhere after everyone had calmed down. He leaned his elbow on the table, cupping his chin in the palm of his hand. “Was it the coffee from the first time we met? I bet it was the coffee, wasn’t it? I should have gotten that dry cleaned for you-” Lance rambled on for a moment before being interrupted.

      “Uh- I told you already?” Keith halted Lance’s train of thought before it could go off the rails. “My phone was broken and I was having trouble working the replacement. Plus for the Facebook thing, I only really use it to talk to Pidge about band stuff so…” Keith shrugged.

      Lance’s face twisted into a shocked expression. “Wh- You should have said something! God I’ve been worrying about this since like, _forever!_ ” Lance slapped his face into his hands dramatically. “Hunk, tell him that I’ve been worrying about this since forever!”

      Sighing, Hunk looked over to Keith, his face painted with sympathy. “Lance tends to over think stuff, like, a lot. Sorry, but yeah, he pretty much never shut up about you.” Keith’s face turned an absolutely beautiful shade of red.

      “ _HUUUUUUNK!_ ” Lance let out a loud whine in response to Hunk’s words, his face heating up as well.

      “Oops, sorry, was that a secret?” Hunk rubbed the back of his head in response. “My bad.”

      Allura snickered at her two friends, before whispering something in Shiro’s ear. He nodded understandingly and kissed the top of her head. Allura stood up from her seat. “Alright boys, we have work early tomorrow and it’s already late, so we should get going,” she announced, wiping seemingly invisible crumbs from her skirt. “Thank you for having us Keith, it was a pleasure to finally meet you and Pidge.” The moderately sized group made their way to the door, everyone saying their goodbyes to each other, before being separated by the hard wood door.

 

* * *

 

      Keith let out a sigh of relief, “I think I’ve had enough social interaction for the next ten years.” He immediately stripped off the red button up, balling it up and throwing it God knows where, leaving him in only his v-neck and dark pants. Shiro let out a chuckle from where he had already made himself comfortable on Keith’s couch. Pidge didn’t seem to pay any mind to Keith’s statement, having already pulled out their laptop and was already typing away. After what felt like a millisecond but was more like a minute, someone knocked on the recently closed door. Keith let out an exasperated groan.

      “Whatever you’re selling, I’m not interested,” he began while opening the door a crack to see who it was. “Wait, Lance?” Keith opened the door the rest of the way. “You literally just left.”

      Lance smirked in response. “Allura said she forgot her jacket, and so I argued that I didn’t think she brought a jacket but she _insisted_ I go get it, so,” he held his arms out as if to say “ta-da”. “Here I am!”

      Glancing over at the coat rack, Keith noticed there was nothing more than a few of his old coats, and Shiro’s coat that he always insisted on hanging up there whenever he visited. “Uh, yeah I don’t think she brought a jacket here, because I’m pretty sure it would be hanging up where Shiro usually hangs his.” Keith chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Is that all you wanted? Allura’s jacket?” He leaned into the doorframe and crossed his arms, deep eyes narrowing at Lance.

      “Well, I guess I could name something else I want, or rather, some _one_ ,” Lance winked at Keith, shooting finger guns at him. “Yes? No? I mean, if not, at least I tried, right? How 'bout it?”

      Keith’s face flushed and he rolled his eyes. “Okay while I am flattered, that was bad. Stop it.” Keith paused for a moment, considering. “Are you free next week?”

      Lance’s smile grew a mile long. “Yeah sure! Man, I thought you hated me, what a relief. How about I pick you up Thursday? Say around, 3:00 or so?”

      “Sounds good.” Keith smiled a bit, before leaning in a pressing a soft chaste kiss to Lance’s cheek . “Uh, I guess I’ll see you then.”

      “Yeah! I’ll see you then! Thursday! Prepare to be taken on a date like never before!” Lance’s freckled face had turned a bright shade of red in only a few moments. He stumbled backwards in the hallway, almost hitting the wall across from Keith’s door. “Bye!”

      Keith shut the door for what he hoped was the final time that night. He turned to face the inside of his apartment, where he was met with smug looks from both Pidge and Shiro. “Oh my God…” He mumbled, stalking into the kitchen to get a glass of water.

      “Your face is pretty red, Keith, what are you, a gay?” Pidge joked, turning around in their chair to look at their bandmate.

      Rolling his eyes, Keith took a swig of water. “Shut up,” he stated, wiping a dribble from his mouth. “It’s like you calling me emo, not true at all.”

      Pidge jokingly scoffed and Shiro laughed. “Pretty sure you already fucked this up, Keith. Don’t you have a show that day?” Shiro reminded in his dad-voice. “Plus if I remember what you told me correctly, you still have his jacket.”

      “Shit.” Keith swore under his breath, running a hand through his dark hair. “I’m fucked.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is sooooo late and I am so sorry!!! I originally started this like, over a week ago when I was away for fan expo, but I lost inspiration and then I was sick (still am but doing better) and blah blah excuses excuses. also the verse for this chapter doesnt go AT ALL but neither did the one i was originally gonna go with so OH WELL. anyways this is... not good in my opinion, but I wanted to get this out for you guys because it's super late!!! things are slowly moving along!!! once again, let me know if there's any mistakes/things i can improve on, and feel free to contact me with any of the links below!!

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first fic in 3 years!! the last fic i wrote was a dave strider x reader "joke fic" for someone. this is also the first fic i've written since high school (which wasn't too long ago, actually) so i'm dedicating it to my english/musical theater teacher and my creative writing teacher. 
> 
> come talk to me on social media!  
> tumblr: ghostyjpg.tumblr.com  
> twitter: twitter.com/ghostyjpg  
> instagram: @ghostyjpg_


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